The Next Challenge
by Witticism
Summary: Think they've had it tough in the past? Well, the next challenge is yet to come.


The Next Challenge

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Disclaimer: You all know this, people.

**

Again, dedicated to my twin, the raving Takari maniac. I have a sequel planned for this, but it'll probably not be very popular, so whatever, y'know…

LoL, please review, it tears at my heart and sucks my very SOUL from the creepy lifeless shell of evil I will become to have no reviews…

*cough* Yes. Well.

Oh, and flamers (you all know who you are), please, leave me alone! *cowers behind a floppy disk*

**

The parchment coloured shirt hung down over his knuckles, nearly obscuring the long, pink fingers with their neatly cut nails. These fingers, which had been marred with ink from his previous school career and covered with dirt and dust and mud and even blood, shook slightly. 

He clenched his fists in a futile attempt to stop the shivering, but unfortunately it only spread. His thin shoulder shook in edgy tension. He pulled at his new collar, which rubbed off the delicate skin of his neck and shifted, trying to pull the green blazer into a more comfortable position. 

His feet shifted in their new regulation black shoes. He bent down, licked his thumb and wiped at what would eventually become a scuffmark. 

He squinted and fancied he saw his reflection in his shoe, the straightened up and patted the trousers down. 

He pinched at the carving-knife sharp crease in the grey trousers, wondering if he should perhaps iron them again, as the crease was becoming less pronounced at the knee.

He bent down and laced, then re-laced his shoes. Standing back up again, he walked over to the mirror, fingers scrabbling at his tie in an attempt to straighten the knot so that it was just _so_.

He picked a comb up from the table and ran it through his hair, for what must have been the fifteenth time in two minutes, then decided it looked too neat, too arranged, and carefully ran his fingers through, messing it up artfully. He longed to just cover it up and to hell with it.

He paced up and down, up and down the room, his fingers picking at the stiff buttons in an effort to find something to do. He walked back into the bathroom and washed his face again, then brushed his teeth again. He bent over the basin so his face was nearly touching the mirror.

He smiled and checked his teeth anxiously. Nothing. Of course, why would there even be anything stuck between his teeth, considering he'd been too nervy to eat anything. His stomach flipped over again as he considered the day ahead. He leant closer to the mirror, fingers searching his skin for the slightest hint of a rise. Nothing there, luckily, a piece of fortune too good to ignore.

He dried the drips of water hanging from his chin, and then as an after thought scrubbed his hands again. Resisting the urge to stick his nails in his mouth, he exited the bathroom.

He sat down on his bed, careful not to crease anything, and looked at a photo. In it, a boy and a girl were standing beside each other, smiling against a backdrop of trees. He smiled too, for the first time all day, and remembered the day it was taken. 

He was happy, on that day, covered in dust, with dirt all over his face, but who was he to care? She had pulled the camera out, grabbed his shoulder and called 'Say cheese!'

He hadn't been expecting this, and in the photo, had a confused look on his face, turned half to the side. She had called the photo 'really cute' and had duplicated it for him. 

He wondered if she would be there today as well. She had said that she would be, but there was so much going on in her family… siblings to be ferried off, it would be no surprise if there were a sudden change of plan she never told him about.

He smiled and reclined on the bed, hands behind his head, as he though about her. About how her eyes twinkled in the sunlight, about how she rode her digimon, hair flying in all directions in the sun, about her keen interest in everything and all the adventure they'd had together.

And about that wonderful day when she'd agreed to go to the fast food outlet down the street with him.How he had waited, hands shaking much like now, trying to swallow with a dry mouth, frantically worrying about whether she would agree with him, whether she would smile, embarrassed, and make excuses, her cat had to be fed, she agreed to watch the neighbour's gerbils, or whether she would smile that wonderful, angelic, pulse-quickening smile and agree tentatively. She did the latter and he walked on sunlight for the rest of the day, the week, the month. 

She wasn't just his friend, and only his friend; she did like him as much as everyone said, as much as everyone had reassured him. 

And he was the happiest guy in the universe when she agreed that Friday that yeah, she would love to go for a walk with tomorrow.

He sighed and stretched his hands out in an arc, smiling happily, his jitters momentarily quieted. He looked out the window, only seeing her face in the reflection. He remembered all the other times she'd agreed to go out with him, all the other times she had smiled and nodded, all the times she coyly laced her fingers through his, smiled and rumpled his hair, grabbed his backpack and ran off with it, taunting him to get it back.

He remembered when he walked her back to her apartment block after the third date, how she had craned her face towards his, smiling that mischievous smile that he loved, how he had drawn back, unsure of what she meant. The realising what she intended, he leant forward; his cheeks aflame, and wound his hands around her waist, leaning his face towards hers.

Even now, a year on, a foolish smile stretched across his face when he recalled that.

Then the alarm beeped and broke him out of his reverie. He frenetically pushed his hair back into place, leaping up and grabbing his comb and pulling it through.

He ran over to his pristine backpack and checked through his books. All there. Good. He breathed a sigh of relief and ran his hand through his hair, then quickly patted it back down again. His stomach flipped when he realised that today was the day that he'd see her again. 

Being abroad all summer was all well and good, but he had missed her after the first three weeks. Postcards and letters were all well and good, but even postcards from her couldn't supply that tingle, that rush of electricity that shivered down his spine when he was near her, when he smelt that beautiful musky smell, when he buried his face in her hair or when she leant into his shoulder. Even thinking about her now sent his stomach lurching into orbit, and he was glad momentarily that he'd had nothing to eat so far.

'TK, time to get going! You don't want to be late for your first day!'

He grabbed his comb one last time, dragged it through his blonde shaggy crop of hair and hoisted his backpack onto his back. He dumped it back down again, straightened his blazer, and then on an impulse, undid his blazer and pulled his tie out a little, to make it look as though he hadn't been up hours agonizing about his appearance. He checked his watch. Nearly time to meet Yolei, as he had agreed, and walk with her to school. Cody would walk with them as always, but this time he would stop off before them, and for the first time in so long, Yolei would bid him goodbye, unsure of whether she would see him in a few hours of the next day. He bent down and carefully scuffed one of his shoes, then, deciding it looked too deliberate, licked his thumb and unscuffed it again.

Racing down the stairs and nearly killing himself on the last few steps, so eager was he to finally see Kari he almost didn't notice the message on his D-T. Luckily, it was built for this kind of thing and beeped loudly.

To: Motomiya Davis, Inoue Yolei, Hida Cody, Yagami Hikari, Takaishi Takeru.

'Good luck to everyone. I'm as nervous as I've ever been in my life, and that includes when we were going to face Myotismon.

-Ichijouji Ken.'

TK grinned, flexed his thumbs and began to type.

To: Ichijouji Ken, Yagami Hikari, Motomiya Davis, Hida Cody, Inoue Yolei.

'Are your hands shaking like they did then? My shoulders are, that's for sure. I can't wait to see you again, Kari. Have a good day back, Cody!

Are four members of the new Digitude ready for high school? I guess this part of our lives is here to decide.

- Takaishi Takeru.'

Soon his D-T beeped with another message.

To: Takaishi Takeru.

'I think we're ready. And I think I never said this, but congratulations on Kari. Treat her how I would have. We've all grown up so much, huh? I'm sure this will be cake.

- Motomiya Davis.'

TK blinked. Out of all of them, Davis seemed to have grown up the most, in the space of a year.

To: Motomiya Davis

Thanks, Davis. I will.

-Takaishi Takeru.'

He closed the D-T, shoved it in his pack and headed for the door, yelling goodbye to his mother.

Sure, Myotismon, evil-but-controlled Digimon Kaisers, a resurrected Myotismon, the Dark Masters and a sinister, grief-stricken man named Oikawa were all well and good. But that just didn't compare to the first day at high school.


End file.
